Captain
by Corelli Sonatas
Summary: Han Solo gives Leia room to grieve and reason to move on. Set on the planet Yavin IV in a cozy little winery, at the heart of the celebration directly after the Battle of Yavin.


She knew she would regret walking into the winery.

There he was, the newfound hero of the rebellion. _Captain_ Han Solo. She promised him she'd never forget to call him _captain._

The rebellion had remained on Yavin IV since the destruction of the Death Star. It had only been under one hundred standard hours that they'd all had to endure dense shrubbery and uncomfortable lodgings, but anything that could provide sufficient distraction from the reality of her situation was good enough for Leia. The last thing she wanted to recall right now was that Alderaan and her parents were but mere particles in the lonely galactic atmosphere, and so the Princess (should she still consider herself the bearer of such a title?) figured she would have something to drink.

Not wine. Just, perhaps, some comforting berry juice, or a slice of bread and some cream.

Solo hadn't yet noticed her; in fact, she believed he'd forgotten completely about her since they and Luke had embraced after the triumphant victory against the Empire. As Leia walked tentatively over to the bar, however, her worst fear approached her from behind.

"Hey." He patted her shoulder, causing her to jump. Leia jerked her body around to face him, already having recognized the voice. _Why?_ she questioned herself in agony. _What does he want with me? We don't even have to talk to stay alive, and yet he bothers to -_

"Your Highness," he greeted her formally, bowing his head. She could tell he was slightly embarrassed about frightening her. "I've never taken lessons on how to properly welcome a princess, so you'll have to forgive me."

He was pulling the most irresistible tone in the book of wooing women; Leia nodded dumbly, unsure of how to answer his ridiculous remark. The bartender interrupted her moment of uncertainty with a polite, "What would you like to drink, your Highness?"

She turned back around and stuttered, "Do you - do you have something other than wine?"

Han smirked. "Really, Princess? You're at a winery and you don't want wine?"

She was blushing before she'd even returned to gaze at him. "I'm underage."

"Underage? Seriously? Wait, how old are you?" Solo's countenance had gone serious. _He's just surprised that some people can't drink,_ thought Leia. She pursed her lips together before deciding to respond.

"Nineteen."

His eyes grew wider than they'd done when she'd talked back to him on the Death Star. Shaking his head, he argued, "You're not nineteen."

The bartender had meanwhile become aware of the line accumulating behind Solo and the Princess. "Er, excuse me, Princess Leia, would you please order so that I can help those behind you?"

"Sorry," she blurted, realizing the nuisance she'd become to the operation. _I shouldn't have come in here,_ she mused negatively. Han touched her arm and beckoned her to follow him over to an empty table.

Acting the gentleman, he drew out and pushed in her chair. "Thank you," she acknowledged. Her stomach was churning with nervousness she'd not felt for several years, and all her mind could comprehend was the soft and concerned face of the Corellian smuggler before her.

"You all right?" he wondered aloud, though he hadn't meant to vocalize it. Leia nodded; she was beginning to understand the value of simple gestures in the presence of a man who made every hair on her body stand up.

Solo had the opportunity to question her further on her age, but he remained silent in his seat opposite hers. They looked everywhere but at one another; Han even noticed a group in the winery he hadn't seen before. Mon Mothma was conversing with Wedge Antilles, and even she had a glass of wine in her hand.

Han lifted his head to face the Princess. "You can't break the rules just this once? Whose rules are they, anyway?"

"What?" Leia asked in alarm, having tuned in to the Corellian's speech at the last minute. Han grinned at her. _Maybe she really is nineteen, and I just couldn't believe someone so dignified to be so young._

"Who made that rule, that you can't drink at nineteen?" he reiterated.

Her features darkened; the regions surrounding her eyes suddenly made her appear older and far more somber. "It was a rule on Alderaan."

"Oh." He cursed himself internally. _How the hell could I have been so stupid?_

"My father -" she inhaled bravely before proceeding - "was a very traditional man. He told me that when I turn twenty, I can..."

Solo thought his eyes were betraying him. _Is she crying?_ he wondered, his unbelief genuine. And she was weeping, but he figured she'd learned to make it look as vague as possible. "Leia," he whispered, now taking the initiative to comfort this woman. _She's at my table,_ he reasoned. _I'm responsible for her now._

To Leia's fortune, the winery's inhabitants were far too absorbed in their conversations and drinks to be aware of the Alderaanian Princess' tears. Leia brushed the undone strands of hair away from her eyes and looked at Han. "It's all too much for me," she admitted. "I know that seems impossible -"

"No, not to me." Han's expression was a fatherly one, and he had no shame in acting like a father to her now. She was still underage according to her planet, and to him that made her delicate. Not effeminate, simply pure and valuable.

He tried his luck and reached for her hand, which rested atop the wooden table. She accepted his touch with no complaint; in fact, Leia smiled upon feeling the warmth of his hand. "Thank you," she whispered. "I've needed someone to understand...that I'm - that I'm not always..."

"Hey, hey," he cooed, attempting to settle her down before she could break down any further. "Let's go outside. You can let it all out there."

...

He thought he was dreaming. Leia had her arms wrapped around him, her beautiful dark eyes completely shut. Han worried that it was a crime to hold a nineteen year-old in such a way, but something felt right about them. _I'm only a substitute for her father right now,_ he reminded himself time and again.

After the Princess had shed every last tear of mourning, Han disengaged from their embrace. He stared at the ground before offering, "I can buy you a glass. No one will care, anyway. I think you would like the taste." She managed a soft smile in his direction, but her face still spoke grief.

"It's not really about the wine, Han... I'm afraid to let go of Alderaan...of my parents... Everything has just -" she stifled a few tears, but hindered them from interfering with her words - "everything has thwarted me. I can't know where I'll be tomorrow, or the next day, or who will take me as their adopted child... I don't even _feel_ like a child anymore! At least, I feel insignificant like one, but I am just as much an adult for all that's happened."

"You're an amazing figure to these people, believe me," Han added with combined seriousness and admiration. "Someone like you isn't common these days, and I don't even think I'll be able to stay with this rebellion as you will."

She thought nothing of his latter assertion, because the time was not right for her to question whether Han Solo would leave her. Presently, she was standing before him in the calm Yavin IV night, and only the current time mattered.

It took a minute for Leia to compile the words, but she credited her companion for them in full. Beaming at him, she confessed, "I think I'll take you up on that offer, Captain."


End file.
